


Protecting My City

by lillianfromaccounting



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Cap meets Daredevil, Depression, F/M, Fluffy Smut, Grief/Mourning, Headcanon, Language
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-17
Updated: 2016-04-11
Packaged: 2018-05-27 06:50:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6274114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lillianfromaccounting/pseuds/lillianfromaccounting
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post CATWS, Steve returns to Hell's Kitchen for some downtime after a stint in outer space.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a continuation of the following works:
> 
> (1) Agent Luna (OC back story): http://archiveofourown.org/works/4146027
> 
> and
> 
> (2) Star-Crossed Bros http://archiveofourown.org/works/4415231
> 
> I didn't want to make this a series because AO3 combines all the tags together, but these stories are related and in chronological order.

Lillian ducked under the stream of water. The steaming shower hurt in a good way. She looked down at her collection of bruises. Most of them were self-inflicted, but there were some fresh blooms rising from sparring today. She had been itching to fight anyone or anything ever since Coulson sent her away from the Hub two days ago. When the punching bags didn’t do it for her anymore, she asked around and someone tipped her off to the underground fight scene here. They wouldn’t let her fight yet; there was a one-week initiation period where she had to do security duty. She was counting down the days; she needed to release this pain and nothing had worked so far. She lathered up over the fresh tattoo on her left forearm; the burning sensation provided some comfort. WWPD. Peggy wouldn’t have sent Steve to his death, she thought. Like she had, her brain said. She didn’t, her heart replied; Steve chose to go--to save the world. He wasn’t saving the world this time, just gathering an artifact. They didn’t even know how it worked. There was no tesseract, no nazi scientists, nothing that would warrant risking Captain America’s life. No, Peggy would not have sent Steve on this trivial mission and then let him get abducted by aliens. Peggy would have done better. Lillian closed her eyes and wept against the tile wall.

Matt walked into Fogwell’s Gym. He had spent the last three hours researching The Hand, learning nothing new. A few rounds at the gym to let off some steam might help clear his mind, he thought. The place was usually empty by this time, but he heard the showers running. He was about to leave when a sobbing female voice stopped him in his tracks.

With his back to the showers, he shouted, “Excuse me ma’am, are you alright?”  
Lillian jumped at the voice. She instinctively picked up the bar of soap and was in throwing position when she assessed that the man at the doorway was not a threat. She hated herself for getting so worked up that none of her basic SHIELD training kicked in; she should have heard him enter the main doors. This will be the first and last time she showered in a public place without her throwing knives.

“I’m sorry; I hope I didn’t startle you,” Matt said, hearing her heart rate doubling. “I thought I heard crying. Are you alright?”  
“Ye--yes,” Lillian finally answered. “What are you doing here? I thought the gym was closed.”  
“I have late night privileges,” he said. “Sorry, I’ll let you be.”  
As he walked away, she caught a glimpse of his walking stick.

 

Lillian walked into the main gym area, bundled up all ready to face the bitter cold. The man in the black suit was now in a white t-shirt and black mesh shorts, doing unassisted pull-ups on the bars. She noted the dark glasses next to his gym bag at the edge of the boxing ring.  
“Have a good workout and a good night,” she said, walking out the door.   
“Same to you,” he said. There was a heavy sorrow in her voice that Matt empathized with--perhaps grieving the loss of a loved one. He dropped down to the ground and took a deep breath. Hints of lavender and bergamot cut through the usual musty smell of the gym. He didn’t mind the distraction.


	2. Chapter 2

"Maria, I thought you said she'd be able to help with tracking Daredevil. She's broken beyond repair," Katherine said. “I’m babysitting her more than anything.”  
"71, she's one of the best in intelligence gathering--ever. You've read her file. Find something to unbreak her."

Lillian walked into the loft and threw her bags next to the couch. She put the kettle on before taking her coat and boots off. Katherine put a glass jar on the counter. "You’ve been here less than three days and the only words I’ve heard out of you are curse words. This is your swear jar. I can't find you a cover job with that mouth of yours. Every time you swear, I will write down something that you have to do around the loft. To make it fun for you too, I will play along. We start tomorrow, so get it all out of your system tonight."  
“Fuck!” Lillian grabbed the closest thing within reach, which was a paring knife, and threw it across the room, hitting the shelf against the far wall.  
“That’s the spirit,” Katherine said. “And two can play at that game. You’re not the only one who won the knives contest every year she was in the academy.”

The next morning, Lillian decided to seek the sage advice of her tattoo. She left the house before Katherine got up.  
"Lillian, what a lovely surprise!" Peggy said from her bed.  
"I brought you these," she placed a bouquet of flowers on the rolling tray.  
"Oh, you're such a dear,” Peggy admired the flowers. “You seem sad; whatever is the matter?"  
"Peggy, I lost him. He's most likely dead," Lillian replied.  
"I know your pain," Peggy took her hand.  
"How did you deal with it?" Lillian asked on the verge of tears.  
"It was his choice to go, wasn’t it? Once he’s set on a mission, there’s no convincing him otherwise. You have to respect his choice. Besides, when he’s set on something, he starts barking orders at you and pulls rank. ‘I’m a captain!’ He barely made it out of basic training,” Peggy smiled. Lillian was grateful that Peggy was having such a lucid day and clearly enjoying her memories of Steve. “It took years for me to get over the guilt, but you have to find a way. You can't keep blaming yourself. Fight the next fight. Make sure he didn't die in vain."


	3. Chapter 3

Matt was surprised by the amount of people and commotion at the gym at this hour. The owner and main coach, Vinnie, walked up to him and whispered, "Fight club. Sorry I didn't get to warn ya. It got moved to Tuesday night this week. Holidays and all."  
"Not a problem," Matt said, about to turn around to leave.  
"How much longer you gonna last fresh meat?" a rough voice shouted from the ring. "Little girl, you should get out while you can still stand."  
The raucous from the crowd was deafening to Matt’s sensitive ears, but his interest piqued because he recognized that rough voice.  
"Who’s fighting against Castle?" Matt asked. He’s been a spectator, so to speak, at a couple of these before. He thought it was good to learn about some of the darker sides of the rest of the gym members. The intel has come in handy a few times for domestic disturbances and petty crimes.  
"The new girl, Lil. She's been begging for a fight since she got here. She's already gone two rounds, beating Lexi and Boscoe. Lasted longer than anyone expected. Castle hasn’t lost a fight in almost a year though, so I don’t know how much longer she’ll last," Vinnie said.  
Matt walked up closer to the ring.

There was something different about Castle. Lillian wasn’t nearly as tired as the rest of the gym thought she was, after fighting the other two members. If anything, she had to hold back a little to not give away that she was a trained agent. She adapted a sloppier fighting style to look more amateur, but she was still itching to get a good fight in. Castle was different though. He was not holding back and she could tell he’s trained--military of some sort. You don’t get that build from the average boxing gym.

After about half a dozen rounds, the crowd was going wild. Money was being thrown all over the place with bets on how many more rounds Lillian would last. She had employed some of the techniques that May had taught her, but still couldn’t get him to hit the mat. She had gotten a few punches and several good kicks in. The sweat dripping down his face mixed with the blood from his cut lip was evidence of a decent effort on her part. Either this guy had more to him--superpowers maybe--or she was losing her touch, she thought. Maybe she had become too reliant on her knives or maybe somewhere deep down inside, she wanted to lose to him. But wasn’t this the why she wanted to fight in the first place? To hurt until she couldn’t feel the pain of losing Steve.

The bell rang. She tightened her stance a little more, arms in front of her face, defending against his punches. She couldn’t get a punch in, so she tried a kick. He was too fast for her though. With her one knee up, it didn’t take too much to throw her off balance. He hit her open flank once and then a fast punch to her face. Her left arm caught it though, but it still had the desired effect. Castle’s last punch sent her over the ropes; some guys around the ring caught her. Vinnie made his way towards her while signalling for some ice and water; Matt followed closely behind. The ref called it for Castle.

When she came to, the last fight of the night had just finished. "It's you," she said to Matt.  
"Matty here took care of ya after ya fell outta the ring," Vinnie said.  
"Thanks," she stuttered, her body stiff and sore.  
"Castle did a number on your arm in that last round. You might wanna get it checked out," Vinnie said.  
She moved her arms around and tried to rotate them. "Yeah, something's not right in there. I'm Lillian by the way."  
"Nice to meet you again, Lillian," Matt smiled.  
"Yous gonna be alright gettin’ home?" Vinnie asked.  
"Yeah, I only live a few blocks away. Thanks." Matt heard the numbness in her voice. The fight helped her forget; the physical pain was masking whatever she was fighting inside.  
“If you don’t mind, I’d like to walk you home,” Matt offered.  
“That’s a great idea!” Vinnie chimed in. “Matty here’s a good kid. He’ll make sure you get back safe.”  
“S-sure,” Lillian didn’t resist; she was still dazed. “Thanks.”

 

Lillian walked through the door and was greeted by a pocket knife at eye level on the door molding.  
“Nice throw,” Lillian said. Her language has cleaned up a bit over the last several days, since the prospect of cleaning the floors with a toothbrush was not worth the occasional four-letter outburst.  
“Well, you look like shit,” Katherine said as Lillian walked into the light in the kitchen.  
“Language,” Lillian mumbled, grabbing for one of the green sticky pads she left around the house. It turned out Agent 71 was just as foul mouthed as she was, and sometimes payback’s a bitch.  
“You better get yourself cleaned up by tomorrow night. Your boy’s back and we’re responsible for him until Stark gets back from vacation.” Katherine retrieved the knife from the door.  
Lillian stared at her numbly.  
“Did you hear me? They found Cap. They’re bringing him here.”


	4. Chapter 4

Steve and Maria hopped out of the jet onto the helipad of Stark Tower. Two agents, dressed in black with sunglasses, stood by the roof entrance. The shorter one had short, spiky, bright blue hair. The taller one had longer, deep red hair pulled back in a tight braid. They both had their arms crossed, barely concealing the guns holstered to their hips.

“Is that my welcoming party?” Steve asked, looking slightly concerned.  
“Seriously, I paired the two most dramatic agents together. It’s 9pm; the sunglasses are not necessary. The one on the left is Agent Katherine Keysburg or as we call her, Agent 71,” Maria said. “And I believe you’re well acquainted with the one on the right.”  
The shorter agent threw two knives at Steve. He instinctively drew up his shield and was able to block one of them. The other one grazed the top of his head; a few of his perfectly blond locks fell to the ground.  
Steve peeked out from behind the shield in confusion, “Lillian?!”  
“Steve,” Agent Lillian Luna walked up to him. “That was for getting yourself kidnapped and nearly destroying my car.”  
“I’m so sor--” Steve couldn’t finish his apology; Lillian grabbed Steve by the neck with both hands and kissed him forcefully, her lip piercing pinching his lower lip. Before he could drop his shield and embrace her, she shoved him away. “That’s for surviving and bringing her back in one piece. We need to get going; we have a tight schedule tonight,” she turned around, walked towards the exit, and shouted, “Later, Maria!”  
Katherine gave Maria a nod and followed Lillian through the exit.  
“What the hell just happened?” Steve, biting his lower lip, asked Maria.  
“She’s happy to see you, obviously,” Maria smirked.  
“I need a decoder ring or something for women. Hasn’t someone invented that yet? Maybe I could get Stark on it,” Steve said.  
Maria snorted. “He’d have to crack the code before he could invent it. Stay safe, Steve.”

Steve, riding in the passenger seat of a black SUV, noticed that Lillian had a brace on her left arm. Her sunglasses barely covered the shiner under her right eye.  
"What the hell happened to you?!" he asked.  
“I cut my hair and dyed it blue again,” Lillian replied, keeping her eyes on the road while navigating the car through the city.  
“I meant the arm--and the face,” he said.  
"I fell," she said stoically.  
"Fight club," Katherine replied from the back seat.  
"First rule!" Lillian yelled. Katherine shook her head.  
"Fight club?" Steve asked.  
"Don't worry about it," Lillian said, making a sharp left turn down a side street; Steve grabbed for the handle above the window. “So I have good news and bad news.”  
“What’s the good news?” Steve asked.  
“The good news is that there’s no immediate mission. Tony and Pepper are on vacation at some remote Caribbean island. Bruce is working in his lab, as usual. Clint’s on leave. Natasha is--well, she’s working on something, but she always is. Thor’s with Jane until we get another lead on the location of Loki’s scepter. Until someone digs up something on it, you have some down time. I’ve got the latest Bucky intel for you, but Sam is still taking care of that family issue, so you probably won’t head out any time soon anyway.”  
“I thought you said we had a tight schedule tonight?” he asked.  
“Thai place closes in an hour. Delivery is scheduled for fifteen minutes. Need to eat and catch up on TV before my night job,” Katherine said.  
“Yeah, and I need to check on some eBay items that end tonight,” Lillian said.  
“And the bad news?” he asked.  
“The bad news is that your new apartment is condemned now. It blew up three days ago. We salvaged the sentimental stuff,” she replied.  
“What do you mean ‘it blew up’?”  
“There was a series of explosions in Hell’s Kitchen. 71 has been investigating it. We think it’s tied to a larger entity than what is being reported in the news. So for the time being, you’re homeless.”  
“That’s nothing new,” Steve replied.  
“There’s a small law firm filing a class action lawsuit on behalf of all the tenants who lost their homes and/or businesses to these explosions. We set up an appointment to meet with them tomorrow.”  
“We?”  
“We’re going with you to vet these lawyers and to make sure class-action is the way to go,” Katherine said.  
“So where am I sleeping tonight?” Steve asked, suddenly putting two and two together.  
“Your room at Stark Tower is being upgraded, so you’re stuck with us until that’s done,” Katherine said.  
“I don’t want to intrude,” Steve said, glancing over at Lillian. “Maybe I should stay at a hotel?”  
“You won’t be intruding,” Lillian said flatly. “Besides, if you think after that alien incident that I’m going to let you out of my sight anytime soon, think again.” Lillian made a sharp right turn into a parking deck. Steve breathed a sigh of relief; he wasn’t sure he was ready to spend a night alone anywhere yet, even if it’s in the city that never sleeps.

“Welcome to the loft. Quick tour,” Lillian said as they walked into the apartment. “Kitchen, living room, dining area, bathroom. 71’s bedroom is to the left. Your room is here to the right. My room is next to yours towards the window. Your room was the surveillance and war room, so there’s still some equipment in there. Do NOT touch anything that’s green. Green is bad. Red is good. Same thing for the bathroom. Green bad, red good.”  
“This place is huge,” Steve said, admiring the floor to ceiling windows against the exposed brick. The place reminded him of the old factories from the 30s and 40s that he found odd jobs at, except a lot cleaner. The modern furniture had a very crisp look to it, but the subtle feminine touches made all the difference. Then again, the knives in the ceiling and on various parts of the walls reminded him that he was in the presence of two very capable agents. Lillian took her jacket off and threw it across the room towards the couch; her black tank top didn’t conceal half of her tattoos. Steve noticed a new one right above her right collarbone, but he was too far to make it out. Katherine took her jacket off and hung it by the door. Steve caught glimpses of tattoos on her back, but her shirt covered most of them.  
“There’s a giant tv screen across the building down the street that’s on all night, so we got the place at a good price,” Katherine said. “Plus, it’s convenient for my current mission.”  
“You have a mission?” Steve asked.  
“That’s her night job; she’s tracking a potential asset,” Lillian said.  
“Like--how you track me?” Steve’s eyes lit up.  
“Exactly,” Lillian replied.  
“No, not exactly,” Katherine said. "Not all of us share beds with our assets."  
"We're not sharing beds! He has his own room," Lillian said defensively. One night of drunken truth or dare with 71 and now she held this information over Lillian’s head every chance she got; the dares were so much more bearable.

Later that night…  
Steve and the girls lounged on the couch. Boxes of takeout Thai food sprawled over the large coffee table. The credits of Star Trek, the original tv show, rolled on the screen.  
"Have you heard of Knight Rider?" Steve asked.  
"Yes. Iconic 80s television show with Kit, the most awesome car in the world," Lillian nerded out a little. “Why do you ask?”  
“When I was in space, I met a guy named Peter Quill. He’s human and he was abducted when he was really young. He said your car, Betty, was like the one from Knight Rider.”  
“Peter Quill,” Katherine said, “I remember reading about him in one of the files.”  
“So this Peter Quill helped you back?” Lillian asked. “Why didn’t he come back with you?”  
“He wasn’t ready,” Steve said. “I gave him my cowl. Maybe you can track him with it. You chipped it, right?”  
“You bet your sweet ass, I did,” she said.  
“Language!” Katherine yelled. She scribbled something down on a yellow sticky note and dropped it into the glass jar on the mantle. Lillian grabbed a steak knife off the coffee table and threw it in Katherine’s general direction. Katherine easily deflected it.  
“What’s that?” Steve asked.  
“It’s a swear jar,” Lillian replied. “Every time one of us says a bad word, the other gets to write something down that they want done. Most of the time, they’re chores like dishes or take out the trash. Sometimes, it’s a dare, like jump across five rooftops naked and not get caught. We’re very competitive.”  
“Yellow for you, green for Katherine?” he asked, doing a mental count of the notes in the jar.  
“Yep. And she’s not wrong. You do have a sweet--bottom,” Katherine chimed in.  
Steve blushed and looked down at the floor. “It’s not okay to objectify my---any part of me,” he said.  
“You really shouldn’t wear such tight clothes, then,” Katherine said. “You’ll draw the wrong kind of attention.”  
“It’s not my fault! Most of my clothes are issued to me!” he said.  
“Noted. Sorry, we’ll stop teasing you. I can track the cowl if it gets within Earth’s atmosphere. None of the sensors worked when you got kidnapped. It was really annoying because I had just upgraded all the chips in your suit and in Betty. None of it worked,” Lillian said. “That reminds me, we’re shopping for a new wardrobe for you tomorrow. Your clothes didn’t really survive the explosion.”  
Steve closed his eyes and shook his head in despair. He thought nothing would surprise him anymore, but life still found a way. "So Betty--is she going to be okay?" he changed the topic, opening his eyes.  
"She came back in one piece. JARVIS is giving her some TLC as we speak.”  
"She’s what got me back--to Earth--saved my life,” he took Lillian’s right hand with his left.  
"I'm glad," her voice warmed up and she stared into his piercing blue eyes. The painful hesitation in her gaze was like a suckerpunch to him, leaving him speechless and confused.

"Okay people. I’m done with Star Trek for the night. Time for my hot date tonight with a vigilante," Katherine said. “See you kids later. Or not. You should be asleep by the time I get back. Or not. Let’s see what crime fighting Hell’s Kitchen has in store for us tonight!” She slammed the door shut on her way out.  
Lillian turned the tv off with the remote. "We have a long day tomorrow--meeting with lawyers, clothing shopping, and if we have time, we should swing by Stark Tower to get you refitted for a new tactical suit. There’s not much left to the one I made you, plus you gave your cowl away. You seemed to have lost some muscle tone in the last few weeks. I mean, your shirts are so small, you probably can’t tell, but I can tell."  
"Let me tell you, space food sucks--” Steve said.  
“Language!” Lillian yelled. “Sorry, force of habit. You’re not playing this game.”  
“Space beer is even worse. I would only wish that stuff on my worst enemies. You would make a killing running a catering business in space. What was that book that you added to my reading list? The Restaurant at the End of the Universe? You would be perfect for that.”  
“So you missed my food, huh?” She pressed her lips together and turned her head away from him, but Steve caught the edges of her lips curling up into a smile. He wanted to tell her how much he had missed her, but his mouth was dry. He looked down at her hand in his and squeezed it tightly. His right hand brushed her right cheek; she winced from the pain. “So are you going to tell me what this fight club is about?”  
“You go. You fight. Pretty straightforward,” she was still avoiding his gaze.  
“Why?”  
She considered telling him about the guilt she had felt over the last several weeks, how she thought they had lost him for good and it was all her fault. She felt her eyes water and blinked a few times. “It’s my fault, really. I got into the ring with someone much bigger and I had seen him fight before. This guy Frank--he’s relentless. And I didn’t tag out in time.”  
“So he broke your arm?!”  
“It wasn’t intentional. It’s just a hairline fracture,” she looked up to see a pained expression on Steve’s face.  
“Well, I’m going to sleep now,” she got up from the couch. Steve firmly held on to her hand. “There’s a set of towels, some grooming stuff, and some pajamas on your bed in your room. Let me know if you need something that’s not there. I didn’t get a chance to pick up toiletries for you, so you’re stuck with whatever shampoo, conditioner, and cleansing products are in the shower. Again, stuff in the cabinets, don’t use anything that’s green. If it’s green, it’s probably either a grenade or a tranquilizer dart. When in doubt, ask. I’ll see you in the morning,” she gave him a light kiss on the forehead and pulled her hand away from his.

Katherine stood on the rooftop of their building and turned on the inaudible white noise app on her phone. She looked around to make sure no one was remotely near before she pressed a button on her left shoulder. The cloaking mechanism in her tactical suit activated. The camouflage function was still very unstable; she wasn’t exactly sure how much time she had before it deactivated, so she had to act fast. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the familiar figure jump from rooftop to rooftop. Her vigilante asset was on the move. She pulled the night vision goggles over her eyes. “Really, horns? I liked the black outfit so much better. Alright, Daredevil, let’s see what you’re up to tonight.” She took a few steps back and executed a running jump to the next rooftop, following in the general direction that he was headed.


	5. Chapter 5

“Hey, Karen, did you hear about the new fondue place that opened up around the corner? I’m reading some excellent reviews. Maybe we can hit it up after work tonight,” Foggy said.  
"Your 10am is here," Karen peered over at Steve, Lillian, and Katherine, sitting in chairs in the ‘waiting room’ of the Nelson & Murdock office. “And fondue sounds great,” Karen whispered.  
"Wait, are you Steve Rogers?!" Foggy exclaimed. "Captain America?!”  
Foggy ushered them into the conference room.  
"His place was in one of the buildings that got blown up,” Lillian said. ”Even superheroes need a roof over their heads.”  
“Yes, on many levels, superheroes are just like the rest of us, in need of shelter, food, friends, love,” Foggy stared at Matt, who was sitting at the far end of the table in the conference room.  
"Matty?" Lillian said, surprised.  
"Lillian?" Matt got up and offered Lillian a hug. “I thought I heard a familiar voice earlier.”  
Steve folded his arms across his chest and knit his brows.  
"Are you Nelson or Murdock?" Lillian asked.  
"Murdock. This is my partner, Foggy Nelson."  
"Nice to meet you," she said. Foggy shook her hand.  
"Is she...? The other night...when you didn't pick up the phone," Foggy mumbled to Matt.  
"Matt and I belong to the same boxing gym," she said.  
"Of course you do," Foggy said, studying her firm arms.  
“How’s your arm doing, by the way?” Matt asked.  
"It’s healing, I guess. Doc said it’s a hairline fracture, so no sparring for a while. Matt was one of the guys who helped me out of the ring the other night. This is Steve Rogers. He's actually the client. I'm his--financial advisor," she said.  
“Well, we’re glad we can help,” Foggy said. He turned to Katherine and asked, “And you are?”  
“His usual legal counsel,” Katherine said.  
“That’s Katherine,” Lillian introduced.  
Matt swallowed hard. There was something distinctly familiar about the woman, but he couldn’t place it. He tried to separate out Lillian’s shampoo blend of lavender and bergamot, but they all seemed to be wearing some combination of lavender, bergamot, and vanilla. Even Captain America had those notes on him. Matt wondered what their true relationship was. “Your voice seems familiar. Have we met before? Do you belong to the gym too?”  
“No, but Lillian and I live together, so maybe we’ve run into each other in the neighborhood,” Katherine suggested. “I’m a creature of habit.”  
Matt scanned his mental database of his daily routine for the scent and voice combination, “Do you happen to frequent Lissa’s Bodega by any chance, on the corner?”  
“Yes, I stop in every morning for some breakfast before work,” Katherine smiled.  
“Yes. You get the onion bagel and a medium french vanilla blend,” Matt said, delighted that he was able to place her. “But you weren’t there this morning.”  
“No, I was coming here, so we did breakfast at home instead,” Katherine replied. “You must be a regular, if you know my order. I’m sorry I’ve never noticed you there before.”  
“It’s alright. I blend into the background easily,” he gave himself a pity smile. Matt was used to women lying about not noticing him; they’re usually trying to be nice, saying they haven’t noticed him before, but he knew he stuck out like a sore thumb anywhere. His thoughts were distracted by two strong heartbeats in the room. He sensed some mistrust from Captain America, maybe even hostility. The other strong heartbeat was all too familiar; he heard this every time Foggy thought that Matt had outdone him in the female category.  
Foggy stared at him in disbelief; how was it that Matt somehow knew both of the beautiful women who just walked into the room? Matt has all the luck, he thought to himself. “Well, now that we’re all acquainted and reacquainted,” Foggy said, “let’s discuss what this class action suit means for you and see if it will meet your needs or not.”

Steve, Lillian, and Katherine walked out of the Nelson & Murdock building. Once they turned the corner, Katherine took her phone out and turned on the white noise app.  
“So that all seemed very legit, and I think Nelson and Murdock will be able to get you a good settlement,” Katherine said to Steve.  
“I don’t care about the money,” Steve replied with a shrug.  
“Well, either way, I think we should continue with them,” Katherine said.  
“Whatever you suggest, ‘usual legal counsel’,” Steve said.  
“Ok, I have to go back to my cover job,” Katherine said. “Don’t wait for me for dinner. Tonight will probably be a long night.” She walked across the street and ran down the subway entrance.

Steve and Lillian walked up the street, retracing the route back to the loft. "You two sure seemed--close--for not knowing his last name," Steve said.  
“Steven Grant Rogers, are you jealous?” she teased with a smile. Steve halted in his tracks; her smile was inviting, warm--a stark difference from last night. His heart raced for just a moment, hopeful they could rekindle what they had before the whole alien incident.  
“No--just--nevermind,” he shook his head and continued walking. “Did you hear what the other lawyer said about the new fondue place? Did you maybe want to try that one night?”  
“We could, if you want,” she said. “But I’m not crazy about fondue.”  
“You’re not?” Steve turned to look at her. “I thought you loved cheese and bread.”  
“I love cheese and bread, but the restaurant fondue experience is--an experience. They bring out a bunch of different sauces and melted cheese, a bunch of different foods, like bread, marshmallows, fresh fruit, some meats, and so on. Half the time, they bring it to you raw and you have to cook it at the table. They do have these fancy stoves--we can go if you want. It’s definitely an experience, but in terms of quality and taste of food, it’s only alright. We do much better at home, in my opinion, and for half the price. I can even make fondue at home.”  
“You can?” Steve wasn’t sure why he was surprised by this revelation; he knew by now that her talents were limitless, especially if it involves food.  
“Yes. I can do just about anything, remember?”  
They kept walking and as they crossed the street, Steve took her hand and laced his fingers with hers. She didn’t fight it.  
“I was thinking,” he said. “What are the chances of getting a place in Brooklyn? Back in my old neighborhood?”  
“I’ve looked. There’s not much supply right now. Brooklyn has become a very desirable place to live in. Parts of Brooklyn are getting really expensive too, and while it’s not out of your price range, there’s really not much on the market right now,” she replied. “Besides, your old neighborhood doesn’t really resemble your old neighborhood anymore. I promise you, if I see anything that looks remotely decent, we’ll go take a look.”  
Steve nodded, “Thank you.”  
“So, we have about an hour before we need to be at Stark Tower for your fitting. Did you want to check out the boxing gym? It’s two blocks away from here,” Lillian suggested.  
Steve’s eyes lit up, “I’d love to.” They crossed the street at the corner. “You’re going to have to point out this Frank guy to me, if he’s there.”  
“Steve, don’t you dare! You will not embarrass me at my gym!”


	6. Chapter 6

Steve woke up to muffled noises coming from Lillian's room. He glanced at the clock on his nightstand. 2am. He threw a t-shirt over his flannel pajama pants and got up to investigate. Katherine was pouring a glass of water in the kitchen; she caught Steve's eyes.  
"Oh, and here I thought you two were having a wild night. Guess she's just having night terrors again."  
"Again?"  
"Her brain plays back losing you to the aliens and she feels helpless. It's pretty intense. One time, she woke up with a giant bruise on her arm because she thrashed so hard, she hit the bed post."  
"How often does she get these...night terrors?"  
"Roughly twice a week. Sometimes, they're not so bad and she makes it through the night with no yelling. There’s not much we can do. You just have to let her ride out the dream." Katherine went back to her room.  
Steve knocked on Lillian's bedroom door. There was no answer but he could hear sobbing from the other side. He turned the doorknob and it clicked open. It practically looked like daylight in the room; the shades were no match for that tv screen down the street. Steve walked over to the bed, where Lillian was sobbing into a pillow. On the nightstand was a small bottle of sleeping pills and a canteen of water.  
"Lillian?" No answer. He shook her a little to try to wake her up. She tossed and turned, twisting the sheets around her. Steve grabbed her by the shoulders. She fought him off and screamed as she started hyperventilating. “It’s okay! It’s okay. It’s me...Steve. You are okay. I’m here. I’m back.” He wrapped his arms around her.

Lillian woke up with a forceful jolt. She felt constricted and turned around to find Steve lying next to her with his eyes closed. She was cocooned in his left arm.  
"You have a really shitty view out that window," Steve whispered, blinking his eyes open. “And you really need to get some better shades. No wonder you can’t get any good sleep in here.”  
"What...when did you...what time is it?" she had a pounding headache and couldn’t think straight.  
"Your clock reads 4am, but you wouldn’t be able to tell with the crazy lights from across the street. Katherine told me about your night terrors. I couldn't wake you."  
"I'm sorry. Did you get any sleep?"  
"A little. You know I don't need much though." He stared into her dark brown eyes and brushed a piece of her blue hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear. "Your hair is so short now."  
"I needed a change."  
"The color looks nice," he smiled.  
"Thanks. I didn’t think you’d like it, not that I was looking for approval.”  
“I’m not Coulson. I might be old-fashioned sometimes, but I can appreciate change.”  
“I needed a drastic change and coming back to the city, I felt like I didn't have to put up airs anymore--unless I'm working for Pepper, then I have to look ‘normal’, but that’s what wigs are for."  
"You needed a drastic change because...of..." Steve wanted to say 'me' but didn't want to believe that he had such an effect on her, "the aliens?"  
"Maybe."  
"I'm sorry you're going through this."  
"I'm sorry you got abducted by aliens. I sent you on that mission."  
"It's not your fault." Steve stroked her cheek, careful to avoid the bruise under her right eye. He shuffled closer to her; her cold feet grazed his. He leaned in and kissed her--gently, at first. She kissed him back and ran her hands through his hair; he wrapped both arms around her and kissed her fervently, along her jawline and down her neck. He opened his mouth slightly and sucked on the spot right above her collarbone, where the new tattoo was. She melted under the touch of his soft lips, mentally cursing herself for finding him so irresistible. He kissed her again at the same spot, this time gently biting her, making her gasp. She wrapped her left arm around his neck and ran her right hand under his shirt; he recoiled a little. “Ahh, your hands are icicles!” he whispered loudly.  
“Sorry,” she giggled. “We probably shouldn’t be doing this anyway. The walls have ears.”  
“I don’t care,” Steve said, dizzy with desire. This was the first moment that things felt right since he had gotten back; he belonged in her arms, and she in his. “Coulson or Fury or whoever can take it up with me later. The only permission I need is yours.”  
She leaned back against the pillows and pulled him on top of her. Resting her arms on his biceps, she stared into his bright blue eyes and smiled. She always knew she wouldn’t have him forever, but he was here now--here for her. He kissed her deeply, sliding her tank top straps off her shoulders. He winced at the contusions all over her body; he could tell that some were older than others based on the different shades of purple and green. He traced a finger over the pi tattoo on her left rib.  
“It’s okay,” she whispered. “I can bear the pain now that you’re back.”  
“Now that I’m home,” he kissed her left shoulder, at the bruise closest to her face. “I missed you so much,” he whispered, kissing every bruise down her body.

Katherine silenced her alarm clock. The windows in her room faced a different direction from the rest of the apartment, so it was still pitch dark outside, despite it being 6am; she couldn’t wait until the warmer months when she woke up to sunlight. She got up and set the Keurig in the kitchen without opening her eyes. She functioned so much better the mornings after she chased Daredevil around. Getting a full night’s sleep just messed with her body. Hopefully she’ll find the right opportunity to make contact soon, so that she can get some normalcy back in her life--well, normal for a SHIELD agent. She shambled towards the bathroom and stopped short in front of Steve’s bedroom. The door was still open from last night and the room was empty. “It wasn’t even 48 hours. I totally win the bet,” she cackled to herself.

“Steven Grant Rogers, where did you learn how to do that in the last three weeks?! In space?” Lillian asked, snuggling into his side.  
“The internet--it’s useful,” he smirked.  
“Steve!” she gently slapped his left pectoral.  
“I like the new tattoo,” Steve said. “I dreamt of your bourbon pecan pie in space.”  
“I guess I should bake you one sometime soon,” she replied, draping her braced arm across his torso.  
“Do you think that lawyer and the secretary got to fonduing?” Steve asked, looking up at the ceiling.  
“I don’t think that word means what you think it means,” she replied.  
“What was that noise?” he sat up and looked around.  
“Ugh. That’s 71 laughing because she won the bet. Fuck.”  
“What bet? And language, young lady!”  
“How long it would take before we ended up in the same bed,” she threw the covers over her head. “You don’t get to call me out on language if you’re not playing the game too.”  
Steve knit his brows, “What was the over/under and what were the terms?”  
“One week. I said over, she said under,” Lillian replied from under the comforter. “I have to do all the house chores for two weeks.”  
“That doesn’t sound too terrible,” Steve thought out loud. He lifted the comforter to look at her, “Over a week? Really?!”  
“I thought I could do it. And we all know you don’t make the first move, so I thought I had a fighting chance. I wasn’t expecting you to sneak into my room in the middle of the night to try to save me from myself.”  
Steve smiled, thinking back to their first encounters at the Hub. "So where's the best view around here? It's almost sunrise."  
She was delighted that he remembered. "The roof. I'll make some hot chocolate. You grab the blankets."

“I’m always amazed by how different the city looks from the various neighborhoods,” Steve said, taking a sip of hot chocolate from the giant mug they were sharing.  
“Absolutely--and it’s always changing with all the construction going on,” Lillian replied.  
“Did you see that?!” Steve got up and ran to the edge of the roof. “There was a man--a figure--masked. He jumped from that roof to the next and then disappeared.”  
“Yeah, I saw him,” Lillian replied nonchalantly; she tapped a box next to the roof entrance.  
“What’s that?” Steve asked.  
“A high pitched white noise generator that normal people can’t hear. It’s not damaging, but just enough to cover our conversation from prying ears. He goes by Daredevil. That is who 71 tracks when she goes out at night. We think he has superhuman hearing.”  
“Is he a villain?”  
“He’s a vigilante. He does good but uses his own tactics and doesn’t work with authorities.”  
“Why is SHIELD tracking him?”  
“We’re trying to recruit him--make sure he stays one of the good ones.”  
“How long has she been tracking him?”  
“A few months now.”  
“And he hasn’t figure it out by now?”  
“She’s really, really good at what she does.”


	7. Chapter 7

Steve opened his notebook and double-checked the address that Lillian wrote down for him. It took her a couple of weeks to find a place that she trusted enough for him, but this is it, he thought to himself. He walked up the steps, pushed open the large doors, and slipped inside the church.

Ever since the Battle of New York, he had been recognized, and scrutinized, by the media. Finding a church that didn’t want to use him as a billboard proved difficult. 

The church was dimly lit through the stained glass windows; light from the candles by the altar danced in the distance. As Lillian noted, he showed up during confessional hours. Steve walked into the empty confessional box and closed the door. The divider slid open to signal that the priest was in there. Steve contemplated how much of his alien activities he wanted to share. A life is a life, so killing those aliens would probably require the same penance as killing a man on Earth. "Bless me father, for I have sinned," Steve recited, making the sign of the cross. “It’s been…”

After an hour or so, Steve walked out of the confessional box, feeling lighter and heavier at the same time. His eyes had adjusted to the dimly lit church; he noticed a familiar face in the pews.  
"Mr. Murdock?" Steve asked.  
"Captain Rogers," Matt greeted. "Let me guess. Lillian sent you here."  
"She said this church came highly recommended." Steve said.  
"It does," Matt replied. "I should have known she wasn't asking for herself. She didn’t really seem like the church-going type. You two must be close."  
"What's it to you?" Steve grimaced.  
"I didn't mean to pry; it's none of my business. She seems very fond of you."  
Father Lantom walked out of the confessional box. "Matthew, you're early."  
"I had an appointment in the neighborhood, Father. Are you available for coffee?"  
"Absolutely, meet me in my office in ten minutes."  
"I guess even superheroes need absolution," Matt said.  
"Something like that," Steve replied. "I'm guessing it's the same for lawyers?"  
"Something like that," Matt smiled.  
"Well, it was good seeing you, Mr. Murdock," Steve said. "Now if you'll excuse me, I got a rosary's worth of Hail Marys to say for penance." Matt nodded knowingly and walked towards Father Lantom's office in the back. Steve knelt down at a pew in the third row, made the sign of the cross, and dropped his head into his folded hands.

\----  
Later that night...  
Katherine turned the corner quickly and ran into a man. “I’m so sorry,” she said, turning around to find him face to face with Matt. “Oh, hey, it’s you.”  
“In a bit of a hurry?” he asked.  
“Just to get out of the cold,” she said. The slight lilt in her voice told Matt that she was smiling.  
“Have you eaten yet? I was just about to go grab some dinner,” Matt suggested.  
“No--I haven’t yet. Where did you have in mind? Lissa’s Bodega doesn’t really do a dinner menu.”  
“I heard the new fondue place around the block is pretty good. Foggy and Karen went a few weeks ago. Care to try?”  
“Sounds like fun,” she replied.

“Ahhh, fuck!!” Lillian yelled, grabbing her braced arm.  
“Are you okay?” Steve asked, looking up from his book.  
“Yeah--just banged my arm into the fridge,” she replied.  
“And language!” Steve said, reaching over for a yellow sticky note.  
“I’m going to start calling you out on it too,” Lillian gave him the death stare. 

“The French really do come up with some strange food preparations,” Katherine said. “But it’s delicious, so I’m not complaining.”  
“So what type of law do you practice?” Matt asked.  
“I practice international law. I actually work for Stanlee Worldwide.”  
“The think tank?” Matt was suddenly very interested; Stanlee was one of the affiliate companies that came up during his research for The Hand.  
“Yes. Steve is a friend, which is why I’m helping him out.”  
“How does one become friends with Captain America?”  
“Well, Lillian’s my roommate and he knows Lillian, so that’s how I know him.”  
“Are they--?”  
“Steve calls it ‘fonduing’.”  
“If that’s the case, what do we call what we’re doing now? Nevermind.”  
“They’re very close.”  
“How did they meet?”  
“A new year’s eve party, from what I gather. Enough about them though. Tell me about yourself. Where are you from? How did you get into law? What’s with the avocado painting in the waiting room of Nelson and Murdock?” she took a sip of her wine.  
“Uhm...I...grew up in Hell’s Kitchen...”

“So how was church?” Lillian asked.  
“Good,” Steve said. “I’m going to go back on Sunday for mass.”  
“Good.”  
“Did you want to join me?”  
“Not this time,” she walked over and sat down next to him on the couch.  
“What happened to not letting me out of your sight?”  
“I can track you just fine,” she said.  
"It's really not fair that you always know where I am, but I never know where you are.”  
“I’m working on something to fix that. So what did you want to watch tonight?”  
“Jurassic Park,” Steve said. “That’s the one with dinosaurs, right?”  
“Yes. Excellent choice.”

"Is there a place we can go for drinks or just to hang out? I'm not so eager to get home yet. Steve and Lillian are probably watching something on tv or playing house--or more likely, trying to make up for seventy years of lost time in between the sheets."  
"I know just the place to drown out those thoughts," Matt said. He offered his arm; Katherine looped hers around his and they turned at the corner.

Lillian huddled against Steve with her hands over her eyes.  
“Haven’t you seen this already?” Steve asked.  
“Yes, but that doesn’t mean it’s not just as scary the twentieth time,” she said.  
Steve was amused at how fearless she could be in real life and yet so scared of a fictional movie. She turned her head into his shoulder as the music built up. Steve pretended to yawn, stretched his arms out, and wrapped one around her. He had always wanted to try that move and was very proud of himself for not screwing it up.

“So he asked ‘what’s lawyer in Spanish?’” Matt recalled.  
“Abogado,” Katherine replied. “And he heard avocado.”  
“And the rest is history,” Matt stopped in front of Josie’s and opened the door for Katherine.  
“Me gusta este lugar (I like this place),” she whispered into Matt’s ear. He figured it was a good pick after she shared her drinking adventures in South America over dinner. They walked to the back of the bar, where Foggy and Karen were drinking the eel.  
“Hey! It’s Matt! And...’usual legal counsel’ lady!” Foggy said a little too loudly.  
“Isn’t it a bad idea to drink with your clients?” Karen slurred a little.  
“She’s wasn’t technically our client,” Foggy said. “And Captain America signed the settlement agreement last week. Matt can drink with her. Matt can drink with the financial lady. Matt can drink with sweet old Mrs. Esteves from unit 9C, cuz Matt knows how to get all the ladies.”  
“Should we go?” Katherine whispered to Matt.  
“No, we’re just fine here,” he said. “Foggy can get a little loud when he’s drunk.”  
“Eel for everyone!” Foggy stood up on the bar and declared.  
“Nobody else drinks that shit,” Josie mumbled.

Matt and Katherine put Foggy and Karen into a cab.  
“We are the BEST! DAMN! AVOCADOS! AT! LAW!” Foggy shouted.  
“I’ll make sure he gets home,” Karen said. “See you in the morning!”  
“Su casa o mi casa?” Matt put one arm around Katherine’s waist and sticking the other one out to hail a cab. She was a little surprised by his directness, but they had been flirting in Spanish all night  
“Definitely yours,” she said, wrapping her arms around his neck. They barely made it to the main door before Matt pushed her against a brick wall and buried his face into her neck. Katherine didn’t expect him to be so enthusiastic and had to redirect his hands a couple of times when he got a little too close to the knives sheathed above her garter.

"Not too bad, just three today," Steve poured the slips out of the swear jar next to the empty dinner plates. He read the pieces of paper, “Go to church with Steve on Sunday.”  
“You didn’t,” Lillian almost responded with a curse word.  
“Let Steve cook breakfast tomorrow,” he continued.  
“I’ll stand by with the fire extinguisher.”  
“Have a little faith!”  
“Honey, this has nothing to do with faith and everything to do with fire alarms.”  
“What’s this pink slip?” Steve asked.  
"The pink one is yours. You said a bad word earlier when you stubbed your toe walking out of the bathroom."  
"I guess it's only fair. So what's my penance?" Reading the slip of paper, he knit his brows in confusion; slowly, comprehension came over him in the form of a smirk. "I'm not sure I understand--'against the wall'?"  
"Oh, Steve, stop playing dumb. You know full well what that means." She grabbed his arm and dragged him off the couch and into her bedroom.

As they got up the stairs and Matt fidgeted with the lock on the door, Katherine slipped her knives out and threw them into her purse. They barely got into his apartment before the clothes started flying off. Instinctively, Matt threw his cane into a corner. Halfway down the hall, Matt lifted Katherine up against the wall and ran his tongue up and down her creamy neck, while unbuttoning her blouse with one hand. When he was aroused, his senses of taste and smell were even more magnified than usual. She tasted like vanilla ice cream with hints of lavender; the sweetness was almost too much for his taste buds. It was as if she were covered in sugar. Katherine was more efficient at undressing him, pulling his belt off in one swift motion. She always wondered what his lips tasted like and after all these months of chasing him around rooftops, it was worth the wait. Matt was hungry for her but he took his time, getting to know every inch of her body; she was different from the other girls he usually brought home. He couldn’t quite place it, but he felt a much deeper connection to her.

"I'm beginning to like this swear jar game," Lillian said, plopping down onto her pillow.  
"I feel like you're cheating," Steve said, lying down next to her.  
"No. I’m going with you to church on Sunday and I’m letting you cook breakfast tomorrow, despite how much I don’t want to do either. I'm just getting rewarded when you swear. I think that's fair."  
"Then I feel like I'm cheating. No one should get that much pleasure out of punishment."  
"Steve, you've worked so hard all these years. You're entitled to have some fun every once in a while. Consider this your vacation."  
"What are we doing on this vacation tomorrow?" he looked over at her and ran his hand through her hair.  
"We're going to pick up some art supplies in the morning and then going to the Met. You have a fitting for the suit in the afternoon. If there’s time, maybe we’ll catch a show on Broadway."  
"Art supplies?" he rolled over on to his side.  
"I think it would be good if you picked up a pencil again. Maybe do some sketching."

Katherine placed the last bug behind the medicine cabinet and checked her lipstick as she placed the mirror back. Matt started stirring in bed. She wondered if he had any idea how good he looked. She knew his body was the result of all his training and hard work, chasing down petty criminals every other night. It wasn’t fair that he couldn’t see or appreciate how attractive he was.   
“Leaving so soon?” Matt heard her zip up her bag.  
“It’s dawn; I need to go home and change into some fresh clothes before work,” she said. “I had an amazing time last night. Thank you.” Matt knew she was telling the truth.  
“The pleasure was all mine,” he said, smiling to himself.  
“I’ll meet you at the usual spot for breakfast?” she sat next to him on the bed.  
He pulled her chin up to his and gently kissed her, “Or we could skip breakfast and go straight to dessert.”  
“I would love to, but I have a 10am meeting that I really shouldn’t miss,” she said. He sensed the conflict in her voice. “Maybe we can meet tonight? After work?”  
“Tonight’s bad for me,” Matt said.  
“We can hash out details over breakfast. I’ll see you later,” she kissed him again before heading out.

Katherine walked into the apartment to find Steve at the stove, wearing a frilly apron over his usual tight t-shirt and sweatpants that hugged in all the right areas.  
"Does she know you're about to burn down her kitchen?" Katherine asked.  
"She knows."  
"Did she lose a bet?"  
"I made it a 'language' item--letting me cook. Have you been out all night?"  
"I was working."  
Lillian walked out of the bathroom drying her hair in a towel, "Did you just get home?"  
"There was a lot of--work, last night." Katherine threw some sensors to Lillian. "Start listening in on those."  
"You got in!"  
"He let me in."  
"So much for not sharing beds with your assets."  
"I'm not above sleeping with assets. They just have to be worth the reprimand."  
"There's barely any structure left. No one is reprimanding us."  
"Oh, I'm sure Maria is keeping track somehow."  
"If May could get away with sleeping with Ward--"  
"Uh, no one in their right mind would reprimand May. That's just asking for an ass kicking."  
"It's really therapeutic sometimes--fighting May."  
"You're a little sick in the head. Anyway, I might be wrong. He might not be Daredevil.”  
Steve put food on the counter. "Breakfast?"  
"No thanks. I have to meet him at the bodega for our regular orders."  
"Daredevil is--the lawyer?!" Steve asked.  
"It's our theory." Katherine said.  
"He's blind."  
"He's very, very coordinated for being blind," Katherine said. "Amazingly coordinated. We even had fondue for dinner." She went into her room to grab a few items before ducking into the shower.

"These eggs are perfect,” Lillian said as she cut into one, letting the yolk drip out onto the toast. They sat across from each other at the breakfast counter next to one of the floor to ceiling windows. She noticed all the imperfect eggs on his plate. “You're having five eggs for breakfast?"  
"I'm hungry. Last night was a--heck of a workout," he replied.  
"I would have eaten the eggs with the broken yolks," she said.  
"The point was to make you breakfast, the way you like it. You always make me the best meals; I wanted to return the favor at least once," he grinned sheepishly.  
She climbed up onto the breakfast counter, leaned over, and gave him a kiss on the lips. "You're such a sweetheart. If you weren't a superhero, I might consider spending the rest of my life with you."  
"I thought you didn't believe in the happily ever after."  
"I don't, but these past few weeks have been really nice. Pretending to be normal people, living normal lives," she sighed.  
"Normal people don't have grenades and tranquilizer darts lying around in their bathroom cabinets."  
"Don't they though? How are you so sure?"  
“That reminds me--we’re running low on the--um--” Steve stuttered; his face turning a light shade of pink.  
Katherine walked out of the bathroom in her bathrobe and a towel wrapped around her head. “Are you guys kidding me?” she fumed. “There were like a hundred of these in the cabinet two weeks ago,” she held up a mostly empty box with a picture of a red condom on it.  
“Those,” Steve said.  
“I thought you took a stash,” Lillian said. “How many did you go through last night?”  
“I only grabbed five and we went through all of them last night,” Katherine replied.  
“Five?!” Steve coughed, choking on his eggs.  
“Don’t worry, I ordered more already. They should be here today,” Lillian said. Katherine dumped the remaining contents of the box into her purse and went to her room to change.  
Steve looked at Lillian with slight confusion and awe, holding up his hand to her. “Five?” he mouthed.  
“Oh sweetie,” she reassured him quietly, “we don’t use that many in one night because you have crazy endurance.” She took his hand and kissed it.  
“What about the green ones? Are they really no good?” Steve asked.  
“No, they contain a neurotoxin that will make you pass out. It’s not supposed to do any damage, but I don’t think anyone’s really studied it. So stay away from the green ones.”


End file.
